


Gemütlichkeit

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Because it's me and I'm predictable, Fluff and Smut, Heavily implied Mech Preg, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past DubCon, Pheromones, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: The last time Cyclonus went through a heat was millennia past.The last time he faced the concept of going through a heat alone was from time immemorial.





	Gemütlichkeit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fertilealien (Nakwrites)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakwrites/gifts).



For Cyclonus, solitude could often be a blessing or a curse. 

He valued his time for song and prayer, made more sacred by the reminder of what he had now- who he had to watch his back and his spark. 

Some days when he found himself alone caught in old loops, trapped with memories of places that Should Not Be and a spark full of longing and regret and anger. 

For as much as he gained, he had lost in turn. 

And what a loss it was, and how painful that solitary reflection. 

On a day that found him overly warm and needy, his solitude was weighted _just_ so towards the side of unwelcome. 

His mind supplied unhelpful imagery, of those long gone and those present, of heats gone by and his behavior during those days that were meant to be long forgotten. 

Galvatron liked to break and rebuild him in private, reveled in the humiliation and submissive poses and positions that came with the desperation a _mating cycle_ brought him. 

Galvatron loved to comment on the lubricants dripping from his needy valve, on how his spike never pressurized during these cycles, showing his true _nature_ and how he was always meant to be one of Galvatron's possessions. 

Cyclonus hated it. 

And he loved it, and hated himself for how wet just those old memories made him. 

He'd not had a heat cycle in the dead universe.

Neither had Galvatron. 

And now, on the Lost Light, he was infinitely relieved and vexed for the lightyears between them, and infinitely sorry for whatever sorry sap would likely find themself speared open on Galvatron's spike and the ire that would come from being so far separate from one of his favorite possessions. 

Cyclonus allowed himself a grim smile into the crook of his arm at the thought. 

No, Galvatron wouldn't have him again, but he could still think back on those times as he rested on his knees and an arm, delicately circling his anterior node with a couple of clawed digits. 

He'd never claim to _wish_ to be treated softly, like some delicate creature needing the wisp of an ardent touch on his needy plating- it was all his coding, to be sure. It was his coding and for that and the past and all other reasons it rebelled at the thought of trying to shove _Galvatron_  into somesuch fantastical position. 

It wouldn't do. 

No, but on a ship full of _Autobots,_ the potential for such soft treatment was all around him. 

Oh, and wasn't _that_ an unfortunate thought, one that sent his fans blasting on full. 

If he wanted _big_ then there were plenty of options to be had, plenty of big mechs that would hold him down and rock into him to completion, filling him to the brim in one go with nary the consequence of _feeling,_ save for the risk of said mech talking about it.

But if he wanted _gentle_ \- if he wanted _sweet...._  

And attentive and **loving** and- 

"Tailgate." It was barely a breath, paired with an overload that could hardly take the edge off the yawning hunger his hell of a heat was becoming. 

He slipped those two digits inside, reveling for a moment in the extra stimulation the clench of his calipers bearing down on them brought, and offlined his optics. 

His mind cleared just that littlest bit, and right away he contemplated medical quarantine, and the message he'd have to get to the medics to get such a thing placed on the suite. 

He couldn't do this to anyone else, he'd not  _subject_ anyone to himself like this. The medics would be able to withstand him, but  the pheromones he had to be pumping into the air. It had to be cloying, he couldn't _imagine_ how oppressive the atmosphere must be. 

His shoulders sagged just that much more into his berthing. It would be a lonely couple of days. 

Or a lonely _many_  days; there was no way to know how severe a heat like this would be, having not had one in so long. 

He made up his mind, and opened up a comm channel to the one person he knew he could trust with discretion and care for his situation, when the door suddenly blew open with a jolly beep. 

_"Ratchet speaking..... Hello? Cyclonus?"_

The mech in question couldn't answer, as he lay staring like a turbodeer in headlights, at the visage of his extremely shocked roommate. 

And there Cyclonus was, two digits buried inside himself, on full display for the minibot who'd just waltzed in without a care. 

The moment between them seemed to hang there for an infinitesimal forever, the spell only to be broken when the door auto-slid shut at Tailgate's back. 

And at once, they were both in motion. 

Cyclonus turned onto his back, withdrawing his fingers and closing his legs as any frantic command to close his panel was denied by starved systems. It was a token resistance, for how the heat had ravaged him already. 

Tailgate advanced on him, his gaze something trancelike. "I'm dreaming." he said, a soft croak added in to the lilt of his melodious voice. 

"I'm dreaming and I don't want to wake up, _ever_." 

Cyclonus regarded him for a moment, mind spinning as the heat encroached again. "This is no dream." He replied, expression twisting into something that gave Tailgate some pause, even in the full thrall such a concentrated blast of pheromones. 

Tailgate looked at him like he was trying his hardest to think, arms outstretched in front of him and twitching as if he was some large soft thing made for hugging. 

He supposed that at the moment, that would be an apt description. 

"You don't want me?" and there his spark pulsed pathetically at such a mournfully inquiry. Cyclonus answered in the way he knew best: Badly. 

"No." He flinched, a snarl on his lips. " _Yes_. It's complicated, I want you-" And that was permission enough for Tailgate to clamber up onto his berth, apparently, and promptly scoot through his cooling slick to put his little hands on Cyclonus' chest plating. Just that little bit of contact, that slightest touch not his own, had him choking back a moan. 

"Then what's stopping us?" He sounded breathless for this short exertion, as if he'd done anything _difficult._ Perhaps exuding so much joy in short bursts tired one out. Cyclonus wouldn't know. 

"I'm in heat." and Primus, a gruff absolutely not-a-whine tinged his voice. "You wouldn't be behaving in this manner if I wasn't. It's the coding, it's-" 

Tailgte huffed, and scooted himself closer, so that their frames were microns away from touching. Those tiny hands took a firm hold of his helm. 

"You're _obtuse!_ " He declared with a pout, as if it made any sense in the galaxy. "I've wanted to clang your bolts off for _months_." 

Cyclonus regarded him with as much weary wariness he could muster. It seemed like such a sweet little fabrication, it seemed... It.. It explained some things about Tailgate's behavior. 

Like the longs looks. 

And the touches, and the gifts and the stilted almost-conversations, flirting with the edge of something deeper emotionally...

Cyclonus shuttered his optics as he moved to lean away with some emotion that was not and never will be _mortification,_ but all that strength Tailgate had at his disposal stopped his tactical retreat, and pulled him _closer._  

And right, apparently, into the softest kiss Cyclonus had ever experienced. 

All at once, his body went limp, save for his arms, used to wrap Tailgate up close as he could manage without the two of them melding into one being. 

He made a noise akin to a whimper, and for a moment, some still-rational part of him could scarcely believe he could make such a needy noise. 

It had an immediate effect on Tailgate,  who pulled back to look at him, optics wild behind his visor. 

"Tell me to stop." He said, frame trembling in his effort to resist. "Tell me to go away, and I will. I'll lock myself in the washrack, I'll quarantine myself in Ratch's bay, just-" 

Cyclonus had the presence of mind to bring his hand up, shushing Tailgate with a couple still-lubricated digits. 

"I want you." He croaked, barely able to begin his confession. "I want you, however you want me." 

Those seemed to be the magic words, for they made Tailgate let out a held vent and a sound that couldn't have been anything other than need and relief, all in one. 

Tailgate kissed him again with a unique sort of hunger, all eager and bursting with his joy. This kiss was short, just quick enough for the contact before he pulled back, And Cyclonus was surprised with himself once again, as he'd not heard Tailgate open his panel.  

They could engage in foreplay some other time, he decided, adjusting along with some appreciative mechhanding to get them both into position. 

He must have expressed  _something_ of that aloud, as Tailgate let out the softest little gasp of joy and then chased it with a moan, as he eased himself inside. 

With his leg slung over Tailgate's shoulder, and the little mech holding firm to his pevic armor where it met his midsection and straddling his other leg, all it took was a spirited thrust to get him buried completely. Only with that hard spike inside him, the stoutness of it lighting up nodes in all the right places did Cyclonus let out a groan of relief.  

And then he thrust again, a slower, harder affair, that made an obscene _squelch_ and had stars fit to burst behind Cyclonus' eyes. 

A third, this time with a slight angle to press in an especially delicious manner against a line of nodes and Cyclonus overloaded, body bowing just so as he sunk his claws into the top of his berthing. 

_This was what I needed_  he thought distantly, frame wracked with tremors as his valve constricted and released in it's best effort to try and  _milk_ Tailgate of his release. 

Tailgate who, to his credit, kept pressed in for the entirety of his climax, only to pick up his pace again with a tremor of his own and the wiggle of his hips which rapidly devolved back into thrusting.

"Y-You're so beautiful." He said, and it was only by the grace of Primus that Cyclonus heard him through the fugue he was finding himself in. "All th-the time, but now... " 

Ooh and part of him wanted to scoff at that, wanted to disregard such a _clearly_ untrue platitude but... as each thrust ramped his charge back up again, as pleasure began to coil wildly once more deep in his abdomen, as Tailgate looked down at him with all the adoration and _yes, love,_ such a small bot could hold in his frame... He felt it to be true. 

With those small hands running up his chassis and hooking into his seams for better traction, Tailgate made him feel beautiful. 

And he had, all along too, and Cyclonus was a fool for not seeing it before. In the long hours practicing language or singing or at Swerve's or... or... 

The words slipped out, in Primal Vernacular before he could consciously think about it and the effect on his little lover was immediate: Tailgate gasped softly and stiffened, pressed in fully so each pulse of transfluid he flooded Cyclonus' valve with could hit their mark of his ceiling node. 

Cyclonus came with him, as he found his words to be true and regret a distant concept. Coming down from it had Tailgate carefully disengaging himself, and with the wobble of the well done he heaved himself up the length of Cyclonus' body, his his plating tingled pleasantly in Tailgate's wake. 

"I love you, too." He said sounding choked up for it. Cyclonus could scarcely wonder why, for the next moment found the dark room illuminated by the split in Tailgate's chestplating and the light from his spark that so radiantly showed through. 

It felt entirely _right_  for Cyclonus to crack his own open in turn, to lay on his back and hold Tailgate close to him as that plating opened wider, and the first touch of those coronas found the pair of them on the verge of the highest order of ecstasy. 

Distantly once more, his mind mused on the fact that Galvatron never allowed any of Cyclonus' heats to bear fruit, and that more than likely, this one would break that trend. 

And then he thought no more, as that, the very essence that made Tailgate, Tailgate danced merrily into his spark and his world reduced down to that singular awareness of two made one.  

 

* * *

Coming back to was a feat, if inevitable, for the burn that was starting to back up to a low constant presence. 

But for as sore Cyclonus found himself, having been thrust back so abruptly into interfacing, he felt... Good. Content. 

He gazed at the minibot cuddled in his arms and felt a peace that was pleasant, for it's rareness. 

Peace that remained as such, and morphed into a fine wryness, for the ping he found patiently waiting in his comm suite. He'd have to thank the medic- or make Tailgate do so- at their appointment, scheduled for 'Whenever you're tired of fragging.' And not just for the space, or the quarantine lock on their door- or the promise of energon and coolant to be delivered in the more discreet times during the cycle. 

It all added up to an inscrutable feeling of fullness and comfort with the heady emotion that came with he knowledge that yes, when Tailgate woke again he could be relied upon to take care of him until he was truly sated and brimming and possibly perhaps, full of new life. 

**Author's Note:**

> Gemütlichkeit - A feeling of all encompassing warmth, coziness, comfort and safety- it has no proper English equivalent. 
> 
> Oh man!!! So this is a gift that I m e a n t to have done forever ago, but something something, the best laid plans of mice and men and all that. Anyways, at least I got it done in time for Camp Nano this year~! I hope you like this, Nakki. :> ♥
> 
> Special thanks as well to three who know who they are, I hope, and whom without I would've likely taken much longer lmao ♥
> 
> I almost forgot- special shout out to my good pal who lost gay porn roulette in class with this one, thanks to the working title of "Tailgate fucks some angst out of Cyclonus" Sorry about that again :,D 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
